


Remember Who You Belong To

by bryndenn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Car Sex, Dom Sam Winchester, Jealous Sam Winchester, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Pool hustling, Sub Dean Winchester, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 09:31:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18989962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bryndenn/pseuds/bryndenn
Summary: When a fratboy gets too handsy while Dean is hustling pool, Sam feels the need to remind his brother just who he belongs to. One-shot.





	Remember Who You Belong To

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by how hot Dean Winchester is when he hustles pool. I mean, who wouldn't want to fuck him?

“Asshole or drunk?”

“I don’t know, Dean, you’re so good at both of them.”

“Shut up and pick, Sammy.”

“Fine. I’ll be the asshole.”

“Suits me just fine,” Dean said, downing the rest of his whiskey and ordering a decoy beer. “Let’s go.”

Sam was always impressed at how well Dean played at being drunk. He didn’t fall into caricature, which really helped to sell it. Sam supposed that Dean had plenty of personal experience, as well as the instructive example of their father, to draw from. He didn’t stumble, although his footing was never especially sure, and he didn’t slur his words, although he looked around with a big smile on his face and seemed to lose his train of thought easily.

Sam slipped into character as well. He felt his eyes narrowing a bit and his mouth settling into an unkind smirk. Sometimes being the asshole was damned cathartic.

When they got to a free pool table, Sam whirled on Dean. “Well?” he demanded. “Let’s see the money. I bet you don’t even have it.”

Dean slowly shook his head and said, “No, no, man, it’s right here. I’m good for it.” He pulled out a folded stack of bills and waved it at Sam. “I’m no liar,” he said jovially.

“You’re no pool player either,” Sam said with a sneer, ensuring that anyone who was watching would sympathize with poor Dean. “Can you even rack them? I’m breaking.”

“Yeah, sure,” Dean said, taking a long draw of his beer. “I can rack ‘em. Just you watch.” Then he made a big show of racking, poorly.

“Jesus,” Sam muttered, grabbing the rack from Dean. “I can’t play with a rack that loose.” He repeated the process, making sure that the balls were good and tight. Dean just looked at him cheerfully, guzzling the rest of his beer.

“Imma get another,” Dean said. “Tell me when I get back whether I’m stripes or solids, ‘k?” He ambled off towards the bar. Sam made a show of watching Dean as he walked towards the bar, his upper lip curling in disdain. As Dean made his way back with a fresh beer, Sam broke, sending two solid balls immediately into the pockets. He sunk a third before throwing his next shot.

“Guess I’m stripes,” Dean said cheerfully, fumbling for his cue. He spent a long time lining up his shot, which sent a ball into the bumper and rolling back towards the center. Dean looked at his cue, surprised. “This damn thing,” he said. “Takes me a couple shots to get used to a new cue.”

“Like I’m going to give you that long,” Sam drawled. He noticed that people around the bar were glancing at them more often, which was exactly the point. With an arrogant smile, Sam sunk two more balls with a close miss on a third.

Dean ground the chalk on his cue, getting at least as much blue dust on his hands. He then reached up to scratch his nose, leaving a blue streak on his cheek. “This is my turn,” he said. “I can feel it.”

And Dean did sink a ball—a solid one. “I get to go again, right?” he said to Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. “No. That doesn’t count. Well, not for you, anyway.”

Dean shrugged good-naturedly and Sam ended the game quickly.

“Easiest twenty bucks I’ve ever made,” he said. “Want to go again? I’ll even buy you another beer.”

“Cannot say no to that, my man,” Dean said. “I’ll getcha this time. Just you watch.”

“Same bet?” Sam said, with a predatory glint in his eyes.

“How about double or nothing?” Dean said, pulling out two twenties.

“Suits me just fine,” Sam said, and proceeded to wipe the table with Dean a second time.

“This is too easy, man,” Sam said. “The money’s not even worth it for as little of a challenge as you are.”

“Can I have it back, then?” Dean grinned hopefully.

Sam just gave Dean another dismissive sneer and stomped back to the bar, taking a seat where he had a good view of the show.

Dean looked around, turning in a slow circle. “Anyone else wanna play?” he asked.

“Sure,” said a smooth voice, and some douchebag fratboy with a popped collar sidled up next to him. His friends sat at a table across the bar, shouting words of encouragement.

“Make sure you get enough for the keg tomorrow night, brah!”

Popped Collar raised his chin at his friends and gave them a knowing smile. Sam couldn’t wait to watch this play out. This guy was everything that Dean hated all rolled into one package.

“You better rack,” Dean said. “I’ve had a couple.”

“Ok if I break, too?” PC asked.

“Be my guest,” Dean said.

PC quickly sunk four balls before he missed, and Sam was glad for it. The faster the game went, the sooner they’d be walking out of the bar, cash in hand.

And it went fast. Before long, Dean and PC were on the final round—the triple or nothing game.

Dean begged to break, and PC gave him an indulgent smile.

“But before you do, let me show you something,” PC said. He walked behind Dean and nearly draped himself over him. Sam could see Dean’s jaw tighten at the close contact, but he kept his body loose, even as PC pushed his pelvis directly into Dean’s ass.

PC whispered something in Dean’s ear, and Dean turned his head to glance behind him, looking startled.

And then PC licked Dean’s ear and cast a devilish smile at him.

The surge of anger that Sam felt almost blinded him, and he was on his feet. Dean shot a look over at the bar that told Sam to stand down, reminding Sam that Dean wasn’t actually drunk and was more than capable of taking care of himself. Sam followed Dean's lead and sat back down.

Dean pulled the cue back as if to take a shot and hit PC in the ribs. PC took a step back, and Dean began apologizing profusely for being so clumsy.

“It’s ok,” PC said. Sam was satisfied to hear annoyance in his voice. “Just play.”

And play Dean did, sinking every ball, calling the eight, and sinking it too.

“Wow,” Dean said, all traces of inebriation gone from his voice. “Thanks for the tip, buddy. I think it really helped.”

And without a backward glance, he scooped up all the money on the table and sauntered out the door.

Sam kept an eye on PC and his friends. It was clear that a couple of his friends were indignant at the way Dean had played them, but PC seemed to be restraining them. They quickly seemed to give up on thoughts of revenge and returned to drinking their pitcher of watery American beer, all the hubris they’d had prior to the game gone. Once Sam was satisfied that they weren’t going to try anything dumb, he finished up his drink and left the bar.

Dean had parked the Impala at the far end of the lot where they weren’t likely to be seen. He was leaning against Baby, naturally graceful and high from a successful hustle.

“And that’s how you do it, Sammy,” he said.

Sam didn’t say a word. He moved in on Dean until he was inches away, deep in Dean’s personal space, bracketing him with his arms.

“Did you have a good time?” Sam asked, his voice low.

“Aw, c’mon, Sam, you’re not sore about that little display back there, are you?”

“He touched you,” Sam said.

“Didn’t get much out of me,” Dean said with a shrug, his eyes flicking down towards Sam’s mouth.

“That’s not the point,” Sam said. “What did he say to you?”

Dean’s eyes flicked up to meet Sam’s. “Said he’d way more than triple my money if I spent the night with him.”

“Did you consider it?” Sam’s voice was low, deadly dangerous, and Dean knew it.

“Of course I didn’t, Sammy.”

“Not even for a second?”

Dean shook his head minutely, his eyes trained on Sam. Sam looked like a viper, fast and vicious, and Dean wasn’t sure when he was going to strike.

“Maybe I need to remind you who you belong to,” Sam said, nipping the column of Dean’s neck while he cupped his brother’s cock in his hand. Sam was pleased to feel that Dean was hard already, just from their little bit of verbal foreplay. “I don’t know, Dean,” Sam said, breaking the kiss. “You seem to want it pretty bad.”

“Only from you,” Dean said in a low voice. Sam growled and captured Dean’s mouth with his own, his tongue demanding entrance. Dean gave it to him right away. Sam kissed aggressively, just on the pleasurable side of pain, and Dean was moaning into his brother’s mouth before he even realized what he was doing.

Sam moved his mouth to Dean’s ear. “You’re such a slut for it, Dean,” he whispered.

Dean responded by grinding his pelvis against Sam’s, their hard cocks rubbing together. “Whose slut?” he whispered.

“Mine,” Sam said. “Get in the back seat.”

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. Not breaking eye contact, he opened the door and fell backwards into the seat. Sam was on top of him in a moment, the door slamming shut, leaving them blissfully alone.

Sam pressed his hips against Dean, twisting a bit to increase the delicious friction of the action. Dean moaned and Sam licked into his mouth, questing but oh-so-familiar. Sam grabbed Dean’s face, holding him still while he kissed him thoroughly.

Dean reached between Sam’s legs, only to have his hand slapped away. “Not yet, baby,” Sam said in the authoritative voice that Dean would always associate with fucking his brother. “Haven’t driven you crazy enough yet.”

Sam rucked up Dean’s shirt and bit his nipple, making Dean buck. Sam began working his way down, licking and sucking bruises onto Dean’s stomach, occasionally using his teeth. Dean tipped his head back and let Sam take the lead, which suited both of them just fine. Sam made his way to Dean’s waistband and wasted no time unbuttoning them. Dean lifted his hips in the air and Sam yanked both jeans and boxers down. Sam looked up at Dean with raw hunger in his eyes and saw it reflected right back at him.

Sam flicked his tongue out over the head of his brother’s cock, earning a low moan from Dean. Sam swirled his tongue like he was licking an ice cream cone before licking a long stripe up Dean’s length from the base back to the head. Dean’s hand fisted in Sam’s hair as Sam slowly began working his way down Dean’s long length until it was seated, deliciously, in his throat. Sam swallowed, knowing how intensely Dean would feel the stimulation, and he felt the hand in his hair tighten.

He began moving slowly up and down Dean’s cock, occasionally swirling his tongue but keeping his mouth loose. He made sure to take Dean all the way in on every downstroke, feeling the head of Dean’s cock in his throat. It was almost more than he could bear, and he had to resist the natural urge to speed up. He wanted to make it good for Dean, and he knew just how Dean liked it best.

Sam reached up and pinched the nipple that he’d bitten before, chuckling around Dean’s cock as his brother involuntarily thrust into his mouth. Sam decided it was time for just a bit more sensation, and he closed his mouth more tightly around Dean, speeding up his movements just a bit.

“Jesus, Sammy,” Dean said, sounding broken.

Sam fumbled for the little foil packet he kept in his fifth pocket just in case, and he managed to pull it out and rip it open without dropping Dean’s cock from his mouth. He squeezed lube on a couple of his fingers, making sure to save most of the packet for the next round, and then rubbed one finger around Dean’s puckered ass.

“Do it,” Dean whispered, and Sam didn’t need any further invitation.

He slid his finger in smoothly, Dean relaxing around him in a practiced way. Sam fucked Dean slowly with the single finger until he felt Dean loosen a bit, and then added a second one. He then returned his attention to sucking Dean’s cock, leaving his brother a writhing, whimpering, hair-pulling mess. When Sam crooked his finger just right as he sucked hard, he was rewarded with Dean stiffening and the bitter but familiar taste of his brother spilling down his throat. He slipped a third finger in and continued to work Dean open.

Sam pulled his fingers out and Dean made a sad sound. “Don’t worry. I’ll fill you back up even better,” Sam promised. “Being so good for me, Dean.”

Sam unbuttoned his pants and kicked them off, reaching again for the lube. With a practiced grace he slicked himself up and was quickly pushing against Dean’s entrance.

“Do it,” Dean panted.

“Bossy,” Sam said as he oh-so-slowly sheathed himself in Dean’s tight warmth. “Almost like you think you’re in control.”

Sam stilled himself for a moment. Dean made it longer than Sam expected before he began writhing under Sam. “Fuck me,” Dean groaned.

“Who’s in control, Dean?” Sam asked.

“You are, Sammy, now will you please fuck me!” Dean said, a note of desperation in his voice.

“Don’t forget it,” Sam said, pulling out and then slamming back into Dean.

Dean made a noise that sounded a bit like a howl and clawed at Sam’s back.

“Good?” Sam asked, thrusting deep and hard again. He knew he was taking Dean pretty hard, pretty quickly, but he also knew that Dean liked to feel well-fucked afterwards. And, for all his commands, they both knew that Sam was Dean’s slave just as much as Dean was his.

“God, yes,” Dean said, raising to meet each one of Sam’s thrusts. “Keep fucking me, Sam.”

Sam obliged, driving hard into Dean, angling himself in a way that he knew he was grazing Dean’s prostate.

“I’m not going to last,” Sam panted. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Dean looked up and caught Sam’s eyes, holding his gaze. They stared steadily at each other as Sam slammed into Dean, and, almost before Sam realized, his balls were tightening and he was pumping his come deep inside his brother.

Sam slumped down, feeling Dean’s heavy breathing through the rise and fall of his chest. They laid there silent for a moment.

“Damn,” Dean finally said. “If I knew it would get you this worked up, I’d be hustling pool every night.”

“I don’t know if I could stand seeing some asshole with his hands all over you every night,” Sam growled. “No matter how good the payout. Now let’s get back to the motel so I can fuck you properly.”

Dean groaned and put an arm over his eyes. “If what just happened wasn’t being fucked properly, I’m not sure I’ll survive it,” he said.

“Oh, I have faith in you,” Sam said with a filthy grin.

 


End file.
